Christine waking
by EriksGurl
Summary: what would happen if the stoire was slitly different? i got my insperation from my favorite book! not telling you whats up you'll have to read it yourself!
1. Chapter 1

Kit: I know my stories suck but I have a little help this time so just give it a shot and review!

Disclaimer: I own none of what I'm writing not any of the poto people or from Alia Waking

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Christine ran swiftly and silently. As she reached a shaggy pine tree, the sound of grunts and cracking twigs came from beyond her. Then near one of the forest's many thorn bushes, Christine saw a face and a brown tunic. She crouched, hiding behind a tree's draping branches.

Christine peered around branches of long green needles. The face and tunic were gone. She could see nothing but the silent forest. The wind brought her no scent of the other teens she new were close by. Instead, she smelled wood smoke, last nights chill, and a scent she had no name for it smelled of roses and cologne, she smelled it every time she went to the woods. But now was no time to close her eyes and smell the falls breath. No skirmish, not even a mock skirmish such as this, was one by closing ones eyes.

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Kit: Don't you hate my writing and me? Well there's my first chapter! short I know but I'm at study hall and can't write any more!


	2. Chapter 2

Kit: ok so here's chapter two I hope you like it! 

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here, no people from Poto or Alia Waking

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Christine hunkered down on her heels and held herself steady, waiting. As she listened to the silence, she wondered if a keeten, a warrior woman, might be watching from somewhere among the trees. The warrior women often watched the fights and mock battles to see which of the girls was the strongest, the fastest, the bravest. Then when the girls reach eighteen springs, the keetens would envite them to join the sisterhood. Unlike boys, who all trained and served for a time as warriors, only girls chosen by the keetens had the honor of learning the war arts and fighting for the village. Christine wanted nothing more than an invitation into the keeten sisterhood, but in the last moons, she had little time to show the warrior women her worth. Her elder sister had married the past spring, leaving all indoor chores for her. This day was a gift. There wouldn't be many more before the next spring, her sixteenth.

A slight crunching sounded behind her, and she tensed and turned. At the sight of her close friend, Meg, Christine relaxed. She reached out and pulled the tall, leggy girl down beside her.

It's not good for us," whispered Meg with a grimace. "The Beechians have caught three of our people."

Christine nodded and glanced out into the trees. No real Beechians were hiding out there; this was just how they named their sides in mock skirmishes. Christine was a Trantian - one of her own people this time, thankfully. Even if pretending to be a beechian was a simple game, it still made her feel tarnished.


	3. Chapter 3

Kit: Ok so this is chapter 3 I will try to update once a week so I can make my chapters longer

Disclaimer: I own now of the characters.

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The Beechen were a foolish, stubborn, savage people. Five falls past; they had driven out almost all of their divins – the leaders of their villages – as well as the divins' apprentices. Christine had heard stories of the divins and their families fleeing Beech with little more than packs of hastily grabbed clothes or food. They now lived in exile in Trant or in the mountain province Even the Masters, powerful divins chosen to advise the Magus, couldn't enter Beech safely. The Beechian Masters had o live with the Magus in the Capital city.

Since the first autumn of the exile, many men and women from throughout he Magus provinces, including Christine's two elder brothers, had died trying to make the Beechians take back their divins and their masters. But the Beechians did not seem to miss their divins' high magic and authority, and so the fighting dragged on and on.

Christine shook away thoughts of Beechians and the real war being fought to the north. A keeten must keep her eyes on the battle before her. At least for now, the skirmish needed all her attention. "Who's-" Christine stopped, hearing a crackle of branches. She could feel Meg stiffen beside her.

She and Meg looked out into the forest. Not far from their tree walked Christine's two younger brothers. The boys were circling the trees and peering into brush piles, as if searching for someone. Christine bit down hard on her lip to keep from cursing. Her brothers hadn't been in the skirmish earlier because Mam had sent them to dig up arrowroots. Before the boys had come to he forest they might have stopped at the farmhouse. If they stopped at the farmhouse, they might have seen Mam. And if they had seen Mam they would have a message for Christine, and Christine knew what the message would be: Get your backside home.

As the boys walked past the needle tree, Christine held as still as she was able. She was sure they would see her; the stockier, younger one, Temmethy, seemed to look right at her. But as he did so, he wiry elder boy, Athon, whispered something in his ear. Temmethy punched Athon's arm, and they started to scuffle. Though he boys arguments usually annoyed Christine, she began to grin.


	4. Authors notes

I'm sorry folks,

I can't continue to write this story right now.

In about 2 weeks after I graduate on June 3rd I will be able to write more of the story

I remain, ladies and gents, you obedient servant.

Kit


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